


A Chance Meeting

by valiantlybold



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Arguing, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions, a very one sided argument, literally right after show ends, ok just jaskier yelling at geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantlybold/pseuds/valiantlybold
Summary: People linked by destiny will always find each other.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 650





	A Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kolettshepard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolettshepard/gifts).



> ok i fixed it
> 
> (removed from the series it was previously in, as i had some ideas for the series that wouldnt fit with this fic!
> 
> BUT i love this fic too much to remove it completely, so instead, ive decided to simply cut it from the series and let it stand alone!)

They walk slowly out of the forest together, him and Ciri. As much as he hates to lean on her, he has to. His leg still burns with pain. The wound will need a little more time, before he’s back to normal. The girl says nothing. She stick close to his side, almost clinging to him as he leans on her.

They come down to the clearing again, and the house there. The merchant waits there; he stands with a woman and a boy, wife and son no doubt. He’s still telling them rapidly about how he had ran into Geralt and all that had followed, and then the woman tells about finding the girl and offering her shelter, and together they both praise Destiny for their fortune.

“Dear, come here!” the woman calls at Ciri, waving her over, almost panicked. “Don’t bother the Witcher now, dear!”

But Ciri shakes her head, clinging even closer to Geralt. So the man and the woman eye them both in confusion, and the boy looks mistrustful of them. Geralt sighs, gritting his teeth as a sting of pain shoots up his leg.

“It’s a long story,” is all he tells them.

The merchant nods, accepting that as enough of an answer. “Come, come inside, Witcher, you need some rest,” he says, gesturing them towards the cottage.

They shuffle slowly towards the house, him and Ciri, but something makes Geralt stops.

It’s a sound. Gods, it’s a beautiful sound, a sound he hasn’t heard in so long but could _never_ mistake, it’s the most perfect sound he knows to exist in the world.

It’s Jaskier.

It’s Jaskier’s voice and his lute, and he is singing like he has the largest audience in the world right in front of him even as he trudges through the forest.

But no one else can hear him. Not yet. Too far away for their weak human ears. So Geralt just stands there, like a fool, staring into the forest, waiting, _waiting_ for Jaskier to come into sight, because it _has to_ be Jaskier, it just can’t be anyone or anything else, Geralt wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ mistake it.

_“How many days have passed like this_

_This city, the crowd is fading, moving on_

_I sometimes have wondered where you've gone_

_Story carries on, lonely, lost inside”_

Fuck, Gods, the words make everything inside Geralt hurt like it’s never hurt before. It makes him sick with himself, for the things he did and the things he said, and for how long they have been apart. It’s been _years._ It’s been a _fraction_ of Geralt’s life, but it has felt like an eternity.

_“I've had this dream so many times_

_The moments we've spent have passed and gone away_

_Could there be an end to this_

_What I am feeling deep inside_

_You know there's no looking back_

_Glassy sky above_

_As long as I'm alive,_

_You will be part of me_

_Glassy sky_

_The cold,_

_The broken pieces of me”_

Geralt tries to step away from Ciri; Jaskier is coming closer, soon he will be in sight, soon Geralt will see him again. Ciri tries to hold him back, tries to make sure he won’t leave her, but he calms her with a whisper, a promise that he won’t leave her sight. She dares to let go of him, and he doesn’t stray far, he only moves a few paces away, towards Jaskier’s voice because Gods, he wants to be _closer_ to it.

_“The mystery of it, I recall_

_Suddenly the truth will change the way we fall_

_I didn't want to hurt you, hope you know_

_Empty promises, shattered dreams of love”_

Fuck, Geralt’s heart clenches. It feels like his knees are going to fold under him, with the weight of these words, and he wants to run into the woods, wants to meet Jaskier, tell him _he’s so sorry, he’s regretted everything he said since the moment it left his stupid mouth, please don’t leave ever again, Geralt can’t stand it if he leaves again._

He can’t keep going if he has to go alone.

_“Sometimes I've wondered what's beyond_

_I tried many times to make it up to you_

_Can somebody tell me what to do?_

_Thought we're meant to be_

_There's no going back”_

Tears make Geralt’s eyes sting, and he hasn’t cried in so fucking long, but just these words bring him close to the verge, these words sung in Jaskier’s melancholy voice…

_“Time has already come_

_Sun is gone and no more shadows_

_Can't give up_

_I know_

_And this life goes on_

_I'll be strong_

_I'll be strong 'till I see the end_

_Glassy sky above_

_As long as I survive_

_You will be part of me”_

Geralt can finally see him, he’s finally coming into sight, he’s dressed in the softest light blue fabric and he cradles his lute like it’s the only thing he loves in this world, and his hair is messy and wind-swept, he has little wrinkles by his eyes and Geralt can see just a few strands of graying hair scattered across his head.

Jaskier staggers to a halt at the edge of the woods. He clips a chord short by gripping the neck of the lute too tight, freezing mid-strum. He is staring at Geralt, and Geralt stares back at him.

Jaskier swings the lute around to hang across his back. Then he is running. He runs across the clearing without a moment of hesitation and throws himself at Geralt and wraps his arms so tight around Geralt’s neck. Geralt can’t do anything other than hold him tightly, and he doesn’t _want_ to do anything else.

“I can’t believe you,” Jaskier says softly in his ear. “I can’t believe you’re _here,_ I can’t believe I found you. _Here,_ of all places! I can’t believe it.”

And there is so much Geralt wants to say, there’s so much he’s always _planned_ on saying if he ever finally did find Jaskier again, there’s so many things that need to be said and apologized for, but Geralt can’t find the words now. They’re all just completely _gone,_ as if his mind is a slate wiped clean.

Then Jaskier pulls away, out of the tight embrace, and Geralt wants so badly to just _look at him_ that he can’t find it in himself to hold him back.

Geralt is very caught off guard by the incredibly heavy slap that lands across his left cheek. Someone gasps behind him. Jaskier takes a deep breath, and then he starts shouting at Geralt.

“I will have you know that I _have_ forgiven you for the things you said, _but_ that has been in the making since long before that, _you stubborn horse_ _’_ _s_ _arse!_ First of all, _how dare you_ not have aged one single bit since I last saw you, _you old bitch?!_ Look! _Look at me!_ I’ve got _wrinkles!_ My knees ache when it’s cold! My back hurts all the time! I’m getting gray hairs, Geralt! And _you!_ You still look as _annoyingly_ bloody handsome as you always have, _you prick!_ If I didn’t have better manners, I would kick you in the bollocks just for not aging!”

The bard hardly stops to take a breath.

“Second of all, what in the ever-loving _fuck_ were you thinking on that mountain?! _How dare you_ say those things to me?! I was your _only_ friend for _years,_ and _don_ _’_ _t you dare_ give me shit for calling you a friend because you damn well know we were friends, and you _still_ treated me like I was worth less than _horse dung!_ I have forgiven you, yes, but I also have years of pent up anger concerning this issue so you damn well better _stay quiet and listen to me yell at you!_ Third, what were you _thinking?!_ Yennefer! _Again?!_ How many times does she have to rip your heart out and _step on it_ before you realize that she couldn’t give _less_ of a fuck about you, _you pitiful bastard?!_ In the years since we last saw each other, _how many times_ has she done it all over again? Five? Ten? _A hundred?!_ It doesn’t even matter, does it? You’re still too _stupid_ to realize whats right in front of you, which happens to be the very obvious fact that she does nothing but _use you!”_

Geralt does want to argue on that, because things between him and Yennefer have changed a lot since back then, and he doesn’t want to blame Yennefer for everything that happened between him and her.

“Jaskier, I-” he tries, but is swiftly stopped.

 _“Oh, s_ _hut up,_ I’m not finished!”

Geralt closes his mouth.

“And fourth! Do you realize how fucking bad I missed you, _you cunt?!_ I spent _weeks_ trying to follow you but that bloody old mare Roach was always a fast one, weren’t she, so you were _always_ out of reach, and I just wanted to _talk to you_ and tell you that I bloody well forgive you for _somehow_ managing to slay monsters even when you’ve got your head firmly stuck up your own damn arse!”

Jaskier is out of breath. He takes a step back, hands on his hips as he catches his breath.

After a moment, Geralt dares to risk it. “Can I talk now?”

Which earns him another slap, across his right cheek this time.

“Yes, you can talk now,” the bard says then.

And admittedly, Geralt does probably deserve a lot more than just a few slaps.

But Jaskier only deserves a hug. So Geralt hugs him again. He pulls the bard in and hold him tight, and breathes in the perfect scent he has missed for so, _so_ long and he can’t really, fully, truly _believe_ that Jaskier is _here._ They are together again, and Geralt is holding him again, finally.

“I never loved Yen,” is all Geralt can tell him, whisper in his ear. _“I only ever_ _loved you.”_

Jaskier shakes. He sobs against Geralt’s shoulder. And it is perfect, because they are together again. Geralt found Ciri, and he found Jaskier, and they’re all _alive,_ and they’re _fine,_ and he can’t believe this is real.

But his own words echo in his head, the words he just told Ciri a few minutes ago, and he can’t understand why he ever worried.

_People linked by destiny will always find each other._

**Author's Note:**

> [Glassy Sky, by Donna Burke](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Em3WZwBhg2Y)
> 
> a song from Tokyo Ghoul because I am a weeb and its totally a geraskier song and you can fight me on it


End file.
